


Strays

by uena



Series: The Road to Hell (is Paved With Good Intentions) [18]
Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, forshadowing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jedikiah is not <i>surprised</i> about John's determination to feed the hungry. Not even if they're cats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope_calaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/gifts).



“Jed?”

“Mh?”

“… Jedikiah?”

“I’m listening, darling.”

“What kind of food can you give to a cat?”

Jedikiah pauses, puts his thumb under the line he’s reading, and looks up from his book. “I beg your pardon?”

John has just come in from the garden, is standing in the open terrace door, flushed and warm and smiling. “What do cats eat? Apart from small animals and cat food?”

Jedikiah’s brows climb up his forehead. “Pretty much anything, I assume. Why?”

John starts to look a bit shifty. “Uhm.”

Jedikiah closes his book and puts it on the coffee table. “John?”

John bites his lip and looks at Jedikiah through his lashes. “I … just want to know?”

Jedikiah has to suppress a disbelieving snort. “Of course you do. Do you want to know for a specific reason? Or is this just random hunger for knowledge?”

John manages to look even shiftier than before. “Just random hunger.”

Jedikiah huffs. “More like a random hungry cat.” He gets up from the sofa and advances on John, who, surprisingly enough, squares his shoulders and bars his way.

“Wait.”

“For what?”

“I won’t take it inside, Jed, I promise – I just want to feed it. It’s so thin … I just want to feed it.” John looks at him with wide, pleading eyes. Jedikiah knows that look, what it means.

“You’ve petted the thing, haven’t you.”

John stares down towards his feet. “Yes.” He bites his lip. “She licked my hand.”

“Heaven help us,” Jedikiah mumbles and puts his right hand under John’s chin, gently lifts his head. “You know what I think about pets.”

“She’s not a pet,” John argues. “She’s just –“

“Hungry,” Jedikiah finishes for him. “You also know what I think about feeding random strangers, don’t you, John? You can’t take care of everyone. It will drain you.”

John sets his chin stubbornly. “It’s just the one cat.”

Jedikiah huffs in amusement. “Oh really?”

John looks up at him, eyes clear and determined. “Yes.”

The silence between them feels charged, full of unspoken pleas and arguments Jedikiah could recite by heart. He would prefer if John did not feed that cat – for a number of reasons, and John’s probably aware of all of them.

One of the reasons is that Jedikiah really does not care one way or another whether that cat starves or not. But that reason is on the bottom of the list, far, far below the fact that John _does_ care.

John cares, he _always_ cares, and once he starts feeding that cat, he’ll feel responsible for it. He’ll keep feeding it, will worry about it when it’s not there, will give it a name.

In an of itself, that’s not a problem. Jedikiah is well able to afford the feeding of one alley-cat – or a hundred, if it came to it. The problem is John, really. Should that cat one day vanish, as those blasted animals are won’t to do, John will suffer.

That’s it, that’s the main reason, blazoning at the top of the list in sparkly pen. And as much as Jedikiah wishes he could protect John from any harm, from _himself_ , he knows it’s impossible.

For one, John’s life has never been a sheltered one, and he would never allow Jedikiah to coddle him so thoroughly, no matter how much Jedikiah might want to. Then, of course, Jedikiah likes John the way he is. He _likes_ that he cares, likes his strong sense of responsibility for anyone weaker than him, no matter how inconvenient it may be.

“Okay,” he says, then sighs. “Noodles.”

John stares at him, blessedly unaware of Jedikiah’s interior struggle and contradictory emotions.

“You can feed it noodles, John. Cooked ones, obviously. And I should have a can of tuna somewhere in the pantry. That should do as well. But don’t give it too much. If it’s really as thin as you say, you should start with a small portion, otherwise you’ll do more harm than good.”

The smile rising on John’s face is doing thing’s to Jedikiah’s heart, and not all of them are good.

“Did you really think I could refuse you this?” he asks, his voice soft and almost unsure.

The words seem to startle John, and he looks panicked, suddenly – afraid of upsetting Jedikiah, of saying the wrong thing.

“You … you don’t like animals,” John starts to explain, his pitch too high, the words coming to fast, “you said it yourself. You don’t even like them when they’re cute and fluffy. And this cat … she’s … she’s not cute or fluffy, she’s …”

“A nightmare? A vision of horror?” Jedikiah asks, his tone gentle, but mocking.

John freezes, then lets out a slow, drawn out breath. “I thought you’d rather chase her away.”

“And you’re right,” Jedikiah admits. “But that’s not what you would do. You’d take her in, give her a place to sleep, feed her, take her to the vet, give her a name, and toys, and spoil her rotten.”

John blushes, but he doesn’t deny it.

“What _we_ are going to do,” Jedikiah says quietly, “is feed her. Okay? Nothing more and nothing less. And since I’m pretty sure that she’ll bring a friend sooner rather than later, I’m telling you now, my dear John, my _darling_ that as soon as the neighbours complain about _anything_ you’ll be the one to explain to them why we’re feeding an army of strays. Are we clear?”

“Crystal”, John says, with another one of his blinding smiles. Then he hesitates. “Do you want to see her?”

“What for? You said yourself she’s not an attractive cat. You can introduce us once she’s starting to look better. For now, I’m quite happy with cooking some noodles for the stupid thing and then go back to reading my book.”

John huffs, but doesn’t lose his smile, and stretches upwards for a kiss. “You’re a good man.”

Jedikiah puts his right to the back of John’s neck, holds him in place and deepens the kiss.

“I’m not”, he says, once they part, his voice gravely and hoarse. “I’m doing this because you want me to, not because it makes me feel good – there’s a difference.”

“Not to me,” John murmurs, and leans into him, puts his arms around Jedikiah’s waist.

“One day you’ll see the difference,” Jedikiah promises him, brushes his lips across John’s temple. “I just hope you’ll be able to stomach the disappointment.”


End file.
